In a circle of writers, the poets are the brave artists who take the biggest risks. As the poet reads her epic piece concerning her late brother and their complex relationship, she lays bare her soul. She tells of emotions still so raw, in words confined by form yet flowing like a river. She resented him, she admired him, adored him and despised him all of her life. Now that he is gone she is the survivor to author the story of the two of them. From her prior poems, it was plain to see that her mother hadn't loved her, and clearly favored him. Or perhaps that was just her impression. Either way, she bore the scars of the legacy she and her brother shared until he suddenly passed. She never had a chance to say her peace, to express those feelings still trapped in her soul. Only poetry can set her free.
With rhymes and measured meter, she finishes those conversations, she says the unuttered words she never spoke to her brother with aplomb. She metaphorically introduces us to her this man with whom she shared a tumultuous childhood. She shows us his humor, his charm, his temper, and his irresponsibility without directly stating such. Her meters flow like smooth, cool jazz on a hot day, then the phrases erupt into a verbal symphony of staccato shame, blame and guilt. She takes the chance to let us know her, the struggles of her past and her hopes for resolution so that she can take back her life from the depths of grief and fully live again. Her art is an inspiration, yet terrifying in its unflinching honesty. The poem reaches inside of those gathered at the table and forces them to reflect on aspects of relationships that are buried beneath the surface. It's not best to blot or drown out the artist's words, we must listen, as she is calling our hearts to her own.